PARADOX — When Neal Andrews first suggested that some of his young friends from Myanmar would enjoy a month at camp, they didn't know what to make of his suggestion.

For these kids, the word "camp" conjured something they had left behind years ago: the sprawling refugee communities along the border separating Thailand and Myanmar, the military dictatorship previously known as Burma.

"They were thinking barbed wire and a metal bowl from UNICEF," Andrews said.

But rather than merely biding their time and trying to stay fed and healthy — the primary activities in the Thai border camps — youngsters like Law Ray Htoo, 16, and Hser Mu Lar, 12, are spending a chunk of this summer playing baseball and soccer, taking gymnastics classes, and swimming and canoeing at places like Southwoods, an exclusive summer camp on Paradox Lake in Essex County.

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"It was amazing when I got here," said Htoo, one of a group of kids who are visiting Southwoods this summer thanks to the program started by Andrews in 2009.

Htoo and his family, who came to the Capital Region in 2008, are part of the ethnic minority known as the Karen, which has long sought autonomy from Myanmar's military junta. Many Karen, who have had their homes burned by the military in addition to other forms of persecution, have fled to the relative safety of the camps on the Thai border. There they support themselves by tending nearby rice paddies or felling bamboo trees for timber. And they hope and wait for the chance to emigrate to places like Albany.

Andrews, who works as an emergency room nurse in Albany, became aware of the new arrivals through his travels overseas and volunteer work with local refugees.

Having grown up in Saranac Lake, the 49-year-old always had a fondness for the now-defunct summer camp he attended as boy in nearby Gabriels. That's where he learned the outdoor skills that helped him become a "Forty-Sixer" by scaling all the Adirondack peaks rising more than 4,000 feet.

Why, Andrews wondered, couldn't some of these refugee kids get a taste of summer camp?

The answer, as usual, was money.

Sleepaway camps can run into thousands of dollars per child. And these families were barely getting by: Many of their parents don't yet speak English, and work in hospital laundries or on truck loading docks; they live in sparse apartments in Albany and Rensselaer, and few have cars.

But without the chance to go to camp, the youths' summer would be bleak. "They would probably be playing computer games, sitting home by themselves," said Andrews.

He decided to approach some camp operators to see if they would donate a few of the unused slots created by last-minute cancellations to the refugee children.

Scott Ralls, who operates Southwoods, jumped at the idea. Having grown up in public housing, Ralls knew some of the challenges these kids face.

At the camp, they share activities and live side by side with the children of prominent lawyers, doctors and Wall Street professionals. Ralls believes that kind of exposure can spark their ambitions and open up what America has to offer.

"These kids would otherwise be ignored," Ralls said as he led a tour of the camps, which includes ballfields as well as a gymnastics center, theater and beach.

During a recent visit, the young campers were engaged in a wide range of activities. Some were learning gymnastic moves and stretches; another was working on his batting skills.

Htoo, the oldest of the five children, is the contingent's informal leader — and has developed into a solid soccer player.

Southwoods could be described as a high-end camp: The facilities are meticulously cared for, and the youngsters get serious coaching in activities and sports. One of the soccer coaches had just signed a contract for a pro team in his native England, said Ralls.

He said some of the young campers took a few days to adjust, especially since they hadn't previously been separated from their families for extended periods.

But the fresh air and seemingly nonstop activities were easy to get used to. "By the end of day six, they realize it's OK to have fun," said Ralls.

Since Andrews started the program in 2009, more camps have agreed to donate unused spots. This summer, the Refugees to Camp program has 67 kids attending 18 camps across New York as well as Vermont, Massachusetts and Connecticut. "Every year we sign on one or two more," he said.

Andrews concedes that some people who work in the field of refugee aid harbor doubts about pulling the kids from their families for a month. But by the end of their stay, they're talking about returning next summer.

The camping trips may be the first time these youngsters have ever been apart from their parents, added Debbie Taylor, who volunteers with the U.S. Committee on Refugees and Immigrants and helps Andrews get the kids to camp.

Some of the refugees, she notes, come from a world where no one had heard of the Beatles or the 9/11 attacks, or even lived without electric light.

Andrews and Taylor are trying to secure nonprofit status which should help camp operators. They've raised several thousand dollars, with the money going mostly for the familiar camp supplies such as multiple sets of socks, underwear and other clothing items.

After a recent visit to Southwoods, Andrews headed back to the Capital Region to pick up more refugee kids. This group would travel in his van to camps in Lake Placid and the Binghamton area.

"I don't want to tell you how many miles I've already driven," he said.